


4. Human Shield

by titC



Series: Whumptober 2019 [4]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-Relationship or Gen, whumptober2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-10-27 22:29:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20767979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: Matt is getting older, and Claire worries.





	4. Human Shield

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Whumptober](https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/) for organizing it and [PixelByPixel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/) for the beta!  


“You know you can’t go on like that.”

Matt smiled, and the crow’s feet and smile lines on his face deepened. Claire remembered he’d always been charming, even when she’d fished him out of her building’s dumpster all those years ago. Charming, cocky, smartass – and always with his self-imposed mission to save everyone. “Why not?” he asked.

“You’re 49 and your body knows it, even if you pretend you don’t.” She threaded the needle through the skin of his arm and tried not to wince for him. He’d probably stopped feeling stitches a long time ago; it was like they didn’t hurt him at all. Maybe they didn’t, not anymore, not after all he’d survived.

“My job – Daredevil’s job – isn’t over. I can still help; I can still do good. I can still protect, Claire, and I will as long as I’m able to.”

“And who will say when you’re not?” He opened her mouth but she cut him off. She had a pretty good idea of what he’d say, after knowing him for so long. “No, Matt, not you. You’ll go on until you die, until you’re killed. It’ll be too late, then.”

She snipped the thread and started covering the wound with gauze. “Someone should tell you when, someone you’d trust.”

“I _can’t_ stop! Stick was way older than 49 when he died.”

“When he was _killed_, yes. I’m not sure he was such a great role model anyway.”

As he pulled his shirt back on, she wondered who he’d be likely to actually listen to. He’d always done exactly as he’d wanted in the end, for better or for worse, but he needed someone to protect him from himself. She just had no idea…

“Wait,” she said as he was walking to her window.

He stopped, head to the side, mask still in hand.

“Stay.”

“Claire, I’ve already woken you up and…”

“I told you to, remember?” When his mother had become too far-sighted, when she’d stopped being able to get up at all hours for him, Claire had told Matt to call her instead. “I’m still here,” she’d said. He’d finally caved in, more for his mother than anything else, but he’d – he’d _listened_, in the end. He’d listened to Claire.

“Look, you should go back to sleep.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you sleep?”

“Claire…”

“I meant it then, and I still mean it now. Call me. I’m here if you need me and not just because of your abs, okay?” So yes, she’d appreciated all the times she’d seen him shirtless. She enjoyed the fine things in life, that was all. She’d like to see him bare-chested and not bleeding for once, though.

He stammered like a twelve-year-old boy because smooth Matt Murdock had never managed to keep his cool when the tables were turned on him. “Claire,” he eventually managed. “Those abs are 49 too.”

“And so am I.”

“I’m sure you look fine.”

Aw, Matt. Getting older had not made him less of a flirt. “Uh huh.”

“You sound fine, you smell fine, you feel fine. I think I have grounds to say you look fine,” and oh boy, the smile again. She’d sworn off the street hero kind after breaking up with Luke, it was true. Before that, Matt’s borderline suicidal approach to vigilantism had led her to make the reasonable choice, the one that would preserve her.

But… she’d been wrong, after all. She’d been reasonable, yes, and yet she’d still been dragged into their crazy world. She’d become their friend and their confidante and their night nurse. She was older and wiser now, and she knew you only lived once. And Matt… She should know, she did know better, but he’d always made her a little breathless, a little fluttery inside. Something which he was probably aware of, the bastard.

“Stop it,” she said. "I’m just saying it’s late. Well, early. You don’t have to leave, and really you shouldn't. It’ll be light out soon, and I think you’d rather people didn’t see you, right?”

“Well, the longer I stay…”

“And you’re tired,” she went on. “Exhaustion will make you sloppy and you could get hurt, have a bad fall. You can’t recuperate as well now as you used to either, meditation or not. For tonight,” she said. “Stay.”

_I’ll be the shield you need to protect yourself, like you try to be for the city._ She could be that person, now. She was ready.

He listened and he stayed, that night and many others.


End file.
